


The Purpose in All This

by effystonem



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Romance, Short Chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 06:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2098290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effystonem/pseuds/effystonem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were trying to fill a hole they knew couldn’t be filled, an Amy-sized hole, a Rick-sized hole, a hole the size of Simon’s mom. A hole the size of their own lost identities, their past selves, how things were before Amy died and even before they died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. May

In May, Steve, Sue, and Jem sit around the living room nervously, not talking, just waiting and tersely watching the door. After what seems like years, the key turns in the lock and they hear people shuffling around on the front step. The door opens, and Kieren bounces in, Simon shuffling behind him, looking embarrassed. Kieren stops short when he sees them sitting there.

“You’re not sending me back to Norfolk?” is the first thing out of his mouth. Steve tenses, Jem rolls her eyes, and Sue immediately rushes to reassure him.

“Of course not, sweetie,” she tries to smile, gently, but she seems upset. “In fact, we have a surprise for you.”

“And Simon,” Steve nods. “It’s for both of you.”

“From you too, Jem?” Kieren raises his eyebrows, Jem shrugs and smiles sheepishly. Simon watches Kieren.

Sue reaches to the cabinet behind her and pulls out a long, rectangular box wrapped in green paper, tied with a yellow ribbon.

Not bothering to hesitate, Kieren rips open the paper. Before he opens the white box, he grabs Simon and pulls him over, closer, so he can be a part of it. Kieren opens the box with Simon looking at it over his shoulder, and at first they don’t react. And then Kieren looks up, grabs the contents of the box, and stares at his family.

“For real?” Simon still hasn’t reacted. He looks stunned.

“Yeah, for real,” Jem rolls her eyes, characteristically. “You didn’t make it last time, so we thought we’d…” she trails off, seeming to realise that she’s about to say something nice, “you know.”

“This is amazing. Thank you so much.” Kieren springs to hug his dad, and Simon grabs the tickets from him.

Two tickets, Paris, in a few days.

“I… I don’t know what to say, Mr. and Mrs. Walker,” Simon seems lost. He’s gotten friendly (enough) with the Walkers (he’s been staying at their house almost every night in a week), but he never could’ve expected something like this from them.

Sue just smiles tearfully at him, but Steve says gruffly, “thanks might do then, Simon,” but he doesn’t say it unkindly. He even smiles, a bit, but Simon sees it.

“Of course,” Simon says immediately, gratefully. “Thank you, so much, Mr. and Mrs. Walker.”

Kieren finishes hugging his parents and then says, “just checking, this is for me and Simon, correct?”

“Shut up,” Jem smiles. Kieren shrugs innocently.

Kieren’s glowing, Simon sees it, and it hits him like a ton of bricks, and it’s like wind on his face. And Simon wants to grab him, and spin him around and kiss him, hard on the mouth, right there in the middle of the room, but Simon Monroe shows some restraint, for the first time in his life.

Kieren turns to Simon, face lit up, and grins. “We’re going to Paris in three days, Si. We’re going to Paris!”

Kieren’s family watch him, smiling, as Kieren snakes his arms around Simon’s neck and kisses him firmly.

“I know, Kier,” Simon laughs, over the moon. For a second he has an urge to pick Kieren up and spin him around, but he shakes it off.

“Alright, that’s enough you two,” Jem insists, pretending to be grossed out. “Simon, look after my baby brother.”

“I’m older-”

“Will do, Jem,” Simon nods.

* * *

 

“I still can’t believe this,” Kieren muses, leaning his head against the window and staring out at the thick white sky.

Simon just looks at him, taking it in, because in truth he couldn’t believe it either, but the “it” was different: Simon still couldn’t believe Kieren, that Kieren could be who he was and be his, Simon’s, all Simon’s. Simon had found the First Risen, kissed the First Risen, fallen for the First Risen, and more.

“In a few hours we could be strolling down the Champs Elysees, at the top of the Eiffel tower, touring the Louvre and seeing all the beautiful paintings…”

“And you’ll still be the most beautiful thing in the room,” Simon points out, staring straight ahead. If Kieren could blush, he would, but instead he just blinks and looks away. Breaching the silence, Simon reaches over and sets his hand on Kieren’s.

* * *

 

“Have you had your fill?” Simon asks, loosening his tie in the mirror.

“I’m exhausted,” Kieren yawns in reply. Kieren sits on the bed in a thick woollen sweater, half doodling on a sketchpad, half watching Simon. He’s entranced. Simon forgets, sometimes, in his admiration and frankly love for Kieren that it isn’t one-sided, that Kieren thinks Simon is beautiful, that all Simon’s feelings toward Kieren are returned, even though Simon’s sure that no one, not even Kieren, could feel about another person the way Simon feels about him.

Outside the window, the Parisian lights twinkle, mixed with car horns and the usual city sounds, and Simon remembers the last time he was in the city. He shudders. It’s easy to forget all the things that torment him during the day, when he has light and fun and Kier and all of it, but at night, alone in a foreign city, it’s hard to forget about. It hurts, and Simon aches. He aches for Amy Dyer, for his mom, the same way Kieren aches for Rick Macy and his old life.

“I feel safer here,” Simon says. “Bigger city… harder to find us.”

Kieren looks at Simon quizzically. “Are you in trouble?”

No, Simon thinks, resigned, you are. “‘Course not, Kier, I’m just saying.”

“If you’re in trouble you can tell me. You have to tell me. Does it have to do with the Prophet?”

“Doesn’t have to do with anything because I’m not in trouble, Kier,” Simon replies, in a way that tells Kieren to just let it go. Kieren doesn’t want to, clearly, but he stays quiet, and the room falls into a silence interrupted only by the scratch of graphite on paper.

“You’re a good subject, Si,” Kieren says softly. “Drawing you is… therapeutic, almost,” he chuckles.

Simon sits on the bed next to Kieren and peers over his shoulder at the drawing. It looks like Simon, sure, but different, somehow. It’s how Kieren sees him, Simon realizes.

“It’s late,” Simon says softly, staring at the clock radio on the bedside table. It’s almost midnight, and they’re going to have another full day of tourist-y stuff tomorrow. Simon unlaces his shoes and starts to unbutton his shirt. Kieren watches him, and Simon feels strangely self-conscious.

“I miss her,” Kieren says, out of the blue, staring at the ground.

Simon doesn’t respond. He stares at his feet, his socks, his shirt half-unbuttoned, at the space in front of him and the air and the dust particles illuminated in the air and he says, “I know. I do too.”


	2. June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon feels his heart break a bit, because Jem is like his family too, and he knows she hurts, just as much as him or Kieren or anyone else if not more.

In June, Jem sees Simon’s scar. He’s alone in Kieren’s room, changing, shirt off, when Jem walks in looking for Kieren and sees it, purple and vicious, tracing Simon Monroe’s spine.

“I’m sorry,” she says automatically, but she doesn’t leave. She can’t look away.

“S’alright,” Simon says.

Jem thinks it looks like there must have been wings attached to his back, wings that were ripped from him. Angel wings, maybe, from the way Kieren seems to feel about him. She cautiously takes another step into the room.

“Can I ask?”

Simon sits down on the bed, back still to her so she can see it. Jem stares. She knows how Simon died, even if her parents don’t (Kieren thought it would be better that they not know), and she knows that that scar appeared after the Rising.

“I’ve never told anyone,” Simon admits, “except Kieren.”

“It’s okay,” Jem says apologetically. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Simon shrugs. “I was the first to respond to the neurotriptyline,” he explains. “They wanted to experiment on me, and I said yes, of course, because what was the point of being who--what--I was without some good coming of it? But it wasn’t… I didn’t like it. I didn’t want it to go on. But at that point, I had no choice. This is what resulted from the experiments with my nervous system. They slit it open and started to work around my spine.”

Jem’s horrified, stricken, but she doesn’t know what to say, so she settles for, “oh my God.”

“I couldn’t feel it,” Simon says gently, turning to put a hand on her shoulder. “But it wasn’t something I’d want to repeat.”

“I’m sorry,” Jem says in a small voice. A beat passes as she draws up the courage to ask. “After everything you’ve been through, how do you keep going every day?”

Simon feels his heart break a bit, because Jem is like his family too, and he knows she hurts, just as much as him or Kieren or anyone else if not more. “Purpose. I found a purpose. I found the Prophet, and everything he stands for… my purpose for years was liberating the undead. Things have changed a bit now, and I have a different purpose, but it’s a purpose all the same. That’s the key to it, Jem. That’s how you hold on. If life doesn’t have a purpose, well, you’re basically fucked.”

Jem thinks about Kieren, about how he killed himself when he lost his purpose. Rick. Simon’s right, Jem thinks, and probably smarter than she’d thought.

“What’s your purpose now?” Jem ventures, figuring she already knows the answer.

“Keeping your brother safe,” Simon says, no thought required. “But not your brother himself. That stuff--it’s dangerous. You know what happened to Kieren. I love him, but I can’t rely on him. I have to keep him safe, but I don’t have to keep him, if that’s what’s better for him. Never make a person your purpose. It puts too much pressure on them, and if something happens to them, you’re lost. It rarely works out, Jem.”

Jem is quiet for a moment, and she thinks about it. She wonders what her purpose could be.

“You love him?” Jem asks, suddenly realizing what he’d said.

Simon quiets. He thinks about it, and then answers finally, “yes.” As he says it, he knows it’s true, that it’s been true for a long time. He just hasn’t thought the words.

“Have you told Kier that?”

“No,” Simon says.

There’s a pause as they sit together in silence. Finally, Jem breaks it.

“He loves you too, you know, but he doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t want to scare you away, or whatever. Kieren’s not usually forthcoming about his emotions.”

“And you are?” Simon raises his eyebrows.

Jem laughs, and then frowns. “You’ve got a point. I’m not going to pressure you into saying something, though, if it doesn’t feel right. You’re the best thing that’s happened to my brother since…” she trails off. “A long time. Ever, maybe.”

“And Rick?”

Jem shakes her head. “Wouldn’t even like to say anything about them… he was ashamed, I guess, and afraid of his dad… I liked him, but I didn’t get the same feeling about him as I do with you.”

“What feeling’s that?”

Jem shrugs. “The feeling that he’s safe. That he has someone to rely on, someone who’s there for him. Kieren couldn’t rely on Rick, especially not in public. You’re good for him, Simon.”

“I hope so,” Simon says. “I’m trying to be.”

After another moment of silence, Kieren walks in to find them sitting on the bed together, both looking very serious, and he gives them weird looks, raising his eyebrows. “You two got to talking, then?”

Jem stands up. “Hold onto this one,” she informs Kieren, and then marches out of the room and back to her own bedroom, characteristically.

“Oh, no,” Kieren rolls his eyes. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing,” Simon lies, trying not to seem like he’s glowing inside, because he is.

“Well, you must’ve said something if you’ve got Jem on your good side,” Kieren points out, laughing.

“Jem’s always been on my good side, since the day she met me,” Simon argues. He remembers that day distinctly well, that awful lunch when he discovered that Kieren was the First Risen, when Simon and Jem were the only ones who kept their cool. He shudders at that thought.

“Whatever you say,” Kieren shrugs. “Now are you ready to go? I don’t want to be late.”

“I’m ready.”

***

“I really wish you were here,” Simon says, hanging his head. “I miss you so much. Kieren misses you, too… I wish you could see him, Amy. He’s incredible. You--just as soon as you started to,” he pauses, “become human, you had life, your second life, ripped away from you and you didn’t deserve it, you didn’t deserve that because… because now that’s what’s happening to Kieren, and me, slowly, but you were the first, Amy. You were the first and you deserved it the most. And it was taken from you. Every day I feel more, I am more and I feel less and less like I deserve it or like I even want it without you. But I know if you heard me saying all this you would be mad, so I’ll focus on the positives. I wish you could be here to see what living Kieren is like. If anything he’s even better than undead Kieren, but I’d take either any day, in a heartbeat. It’s incredible. I’ve never felt like--felt anything before, compared to what I feel now, when I touch his skin or his hair or feel his heart beating next to mine… it’s like an entirely new sensation. Whatever feelings I experienced when I was alive the first time, well, they’re nothing compared to this. Nothing, Amy. But it’s hard, doing and feeling and experiencing without you. Come back to me, Amy Dyer. Come back to us.”

Simon stares at the ground, where she lies six feet under, as though he’s locked in a trance. He barely even notices footsteps in the soft ground, and he doesn’t see Kieren’s shadow cast over him. Kieren stands above him, hands in his pockets, watching Simon. He hadn’t heard anything of what Simon said, but he knows Simon’s emotional… it happens every other Sunday morning, which is when they visit Amy Dyer.

“Ready to go, love?” Kieren asks softly, holding out his hand. Simon takes it and gets to his feet, eyes still glued to the grave. Every time they go, Simon hopes he’ll see her hand, her crawling out of the dirt in a vintage dress, singing and smiling and happy and there, but it never happens. It never comes.

“We love you, Amy,” Simon says before they leave.

Kieren nods, grabs Simon by the hand, and they turn and walk away, leaving the grave behind them, not looking back. That’s their tradition. We love you, Amy. No goodbye. Not ready to say goodbye, even after half a year, not ready not one bit.

Next, they stop at another grave. The headstone reads Rick Macy. He’s buried next to his father. Kieren stands at the grave, but he doesn’t kneel, doesn’t sit, doesn’t even speak.

“Do you miss him?” Simon asks, feeling silly just for wondering.

“I do,” he admits, “but it’s much better now. I used to miss him every day, like there was a hole in my chest. I thought I’d never feel about another person the way I felt about him but… well, I guess it’s safe to say I’ve proven myself wrong.”

Simon doesn’t say anything. He feels guilty.

“I didn’t know him,” Simon says, “but I wish he were here, for you. I know he loved you, Kieren. Who wouldn’t?”

Kieren nods, solemnly, and then they walk away from the grave together. “Amy didn’t like him,” Kieren says, smiling at the memory. “I think she saw through him.”

“And saw what?”

“Dunno,” Kieren shrugs. “That he was never going to be there for me, properly, maybe. I knew that. Everyone knew that, even him, and he was fooling himself that he could be good to me but… he tried. And I’ll always love him for trying.”


	3. July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know, Kieren Walker, you make me very happy. And I've never been a very happy person, to be perfectly honest."

In July, Simon finds himself comforting Jem. He's never seen Jem cry, and he never thought he ever would, but here he is, sitting in Jem's bedroom with her after hearing her sobbing.

When there's a lull in her tears, he asks her, "what's wrong?"

She stares blankly at the ground. "What isn't? My life's to shit, Simon, and I'm not doing a thing about it because I don't know what to do. I don't think there's anything I  _can_ do."

"Your life isn't a mess, Jem," Simon comforts her. "You've got lots of time. Life is just... well, to be honest, I don't know much about it. I died when I was 27. Hadn't even lived three decades, so I can't give you a lot of good advice. I've exhausted myself on that, but... I can tell you what Amy would say. Everything's going to be okay. And she's said that to me and I thought it was shitty comforting, but in the end, it was okay, so she was right. Amy's rarely wrong."

"You miss her a lot," Jem points out, "you miss everyone you've lost. So does Kieren. I've lost people, too, you know, Simon. And sometimes..." she trails off, her eyes welling up again. "I'm the reason that some people have lost someone, you know? I killed people, during the Rising. I killed my schoolmate's dad. Probably a whole lot of other people that could've been sent to the treatment centre and come back the same person. I was incredibly lucky to get Kieren back, but not everyone was that lucky, because of  _me,_ Simon!"

Simon doesn't know what to say to her, what he  _can_ say that would make Jem feel better, so he just says, "I killed people during the Rising, too, Jem. I killed my own mother. Knowing that I did that... I much rather would've been shot by you if it would've meant saving her life. But there's nothing I can do about it now. No way to go back in time and save her or trade my life for hers or anything like that. It's over. I still feel bad about it, obviously, and I still hate myself every day for what I did to her and my father but... I can't go back. I can't fix it. So I live in the moment. Focus on now, helping people now, helping people see the truth and see what's happening around them. That's what you need to do. Just live in the moment. Purpose, remember?" He smiles softly.

She doesn't seem to fall for it, for the first time. Simon's a charmer; his words can always make people feel better, make people do or believe anything, but she isn't having it. "Purpose? Where's the  _purpose_ in all this? In life, anymore?" Jem takes a ragged breath. "I can't look at you without feeling terrified, and guilty for feeling terrified, and guilty for what I did, all at once, and more. I can't go out, there's nothing I can do about it. Where's the  _purpose_ in _that,_ Simon?"

Simon's quiet. "Jem," he says warily, "I thought you had gotten help. Is it not working?"

She's quiet in turn. "I was talking to someone, but I stopped. I thought..." she pauses, chokes, "I thought I was okay. I thought I was better."

"Clearly, you aren't," Simon says humourlessly. "You need me to set up an appointment again?"

She nods, like a child, staring at her feet. 

Kieren knocks on the door. He comes in. They look at him.

"That," Simon says, nodding at Kieren, "is the purpose in all this. Your brother. Your mum, your dad, your mates. Your music, your room, everything you like to do. That's the purpose, Jem."

"She okay?" Kieren asks in a low voice. Simon nods.

"I'm right here, Kier," Jem complains. "But I'm okay. Thanks, as usual, Simon. You can go fuck my brother now or whatever it is you two do. Suck each other's blood or something. Ritual sacrifices."

Kieren rolls his eyes and grabs Simon's hand. "Bye, Jem."

When Simon shuts the door behind them, Kieren turns to him. "Are you sure she's alright? What happened?"

"She needs to see the therapist again," Simon tells him. "She was having a bit of a breakdown when I came in, but I think she's okay now. She has trouble with finding her purpose."

Kieren nods and thinks for a moment. "Thanks, Simon. I really can't thank you enough."

"It's not a problem," Simon insists.

"I know, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't thank you. You've saved me, in more ways than one, and you've saved a lot of lonely people, and you're saving my sister now with that silver tongue of yours, and I can't thank you enough."

"I didn't save you with my silver tongue," Simon rolls his eyes. "I saved you with my shoulder. Now come on, let's go."

* * *

When Kieren comes back from Rick's grave, instead of finding Simon at Amy's, he finds Simon sitting on Kieren's own headstone, back turned, and he can't help but grin like an idiot at the sight.

"Excuse me," Kieren approaches him, "you're sitting on my grave!"

Simon turns around, smirking. "Oh, this is you?"

"Yeah," Kieren says, kissing Simon while he still sits on the headstone, with such force that Simon's pushed backward a bit. "Couldn't you tell?"

Simon smiles through the kiss. "You know, Kieren Walker, you make me very happy. And I've never been a very happy person, to be perfectly honest."

Kieren kisses him again, short and sweet. "Neither have I, Simon Monroe. And you too, by the way. Make me happy, I mean."

"Great," Simon rolls his eyes. "Now that we've established that, can I ask you something?"

Kieren takes a step back and his eyes widen. "Are you..."

"No, I'm not proposing," Simon laughs. "Sorry to burst your bubble. But this is still big, so hush and listen."

Kieren nods.

"I was wondering if you--if we--maybe, if--would you want," he stops. "I'm just going to say it." Simon takes a deep breath and blurts out, "If you wanted I thought we could get a place together."

Kieren stares at him blankly for so long that Simon continues, "I mean, like a place to live. And we would live there. Together. Kier?"

It seems to hit Kieren all at once. "Of course," he practically yells. "Yes, yes, of course, Simon! God, yeah, I'd love to. A place of our own. A Walker-Monroe household. Wow, yeah. Sounds good. Great."

"Okay, okay, I'm not marrying you yet," Simon chuckles. "But good. I was hoping you would say that, because I've already got a few places picked out for us to look at, right here in Roarton."

"Wow, Simon." Kieren pauses for a second. "We're a bit young to be doing this, though, aren't we?"

Simon raises his eyebrows. "Kieren, you're 23 by all intents and purposes."

"Right, right," he nods, exhaling. "I just don't feel like it's been that long... well, I'm ready for this, and if you are too, then let's do it."

They leave the graveyard, holding hands and grinning like idiots.

 


	4. August

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon truly feels he’s been born again, with even more sensation than before. He feels more, and not only that, he sees more. He sees more beauty. He loves more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a mature scene in this chapter, but it doesn't really go into detail... xx

In August, Kieren decides that they need to get away from the family for a while, so he goes ahead and plans a camping trip. They buy a brand-new tent; Kieren originally wants to use Amy’s tent (because Philip had told him the story), but he knows it has a rip in it so he decides to just buy a new one. Simon is a city boy, but Kieren’s had his fair share of camp-outs with Rick and his family in the beautiful forests of the Roarton Valley, and he convinces Simon it’ll be fun.

“You’ll love it, once we do it,” Kieren tells him. “We just grab the bare essentials, a tent, and take off in the car, stay as long as we want, feel like we never have to come back until we start missing the real showers… it’s paradise. You’ll adore it. Come on, Simon.”

Simon contemplates. “Fine. But there has to be some kind of bathing or we’ll stink like corpses,” he smiles. “Seriously though, Kieren.”

“We’ll bathe,” Kieren rolls his eyes. “In the river. You’ll love it. We just bring the soap down and-”

“Let me stop you right there,” Simon shudders. “I’ve already said yes. Now we need to pack.”

* * *

 

“I can’t believe it. This is it. You, me, the woods, the open road,” Kieren muses, staring out the window with a disgustingly happy look on his face.

“Yeah yeah, I get it,” Simon rolls his eyes. “Now where do I turn?”

“A right in three. But seriously Simon, thank you for doing this for me. I think we’re going to have a good time, I honestly do, and I’m glad you wanted to come.”

Simon looks at him out of the corner of his eye, suspiciously. “That’s awfully nice of you to say.”

Kieren leans over and kisses Simon on the cheek. “I’m serious, Si. I know you need to hear it sometimes.”

“What do you mean? I don’t need to hear anything. I’m fine.”

Kieren raises his eyebrows. “Oh, please, you like it too much when I compliment you, don’t think I haven’t noticed that.”

Simon shrugs. “Well, I thought it was pretty obvious from the beginning that I was more into- that you fascinated me and you had all the choices in the world and I still- that I cared more, I guess.”

Kieren stares at him for a moment, wide-eyed, and then presses his lips together and just looks out the window. Simon can sense that he’s angry, but he doesn’t know what to say. Finally, Kieren breaches the silence. “Don’t you ever say that to me, Simon Monroe. I mean it.”

“What?”

“Don’t-” he stops himself, and then continues, “don’t discredit my feelings like that. Don’t act like what I felt, what I feel isn’t as important or great or momentous as what you felt just because I’m younger than you or less experienced or whatever. Don’t act like that. It makes me feel small,” Kieren admits.

Simon pauses, watching Kieren out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But it’s hard for me. You’re so incredible, and I-”

“And you are so incredible. That’s it. End of story. Can we please not talk about it anymore?” Kieren presses his lips into a thin line.

“Fine,” Simon shrugs, disappointed.

The rest of the car ride goes by in silence.

* * *

 

“This is the perfect spot,” Kieren declares. They’ve found a clearing in the woods, not far from the beach and the river, shaded by trees but with just enough sun to illuminate everything. “We’ll pitch the tent here.”

Pitching the tent takes longer than expected because they’re both incompetent when it comes to tent-pitching, but eventually it gets up so they start to bring stuff out of the trunk.

“This’ll be like a trial run for living together,” Kieren points out seriously as he lugs the cooler out of the trunk and into their little shaded spot.

“Sure, but when we’re living together we’ll have running water,” Simon replies. Kieren rolls his eyes.

* * *

 

The very next day, they go to the river to wash up a bit and take a swim. Kieren goes down first while Simon stays behind to clean up a bit, and then Simon joins him, walking down the path carrying his beach towel. When he’s within seeing distance of the water, he sees Kieren standing in it, naked, beautiful. He sees the curve of Kieren’s back like he’s never seen anything before, the golden light in Kieren’s hair, his profile illuminated as he stares out at the forest. Simon can tell that Kieren’s naked, and he thinks about his waist, and just below the water all of Kieren for Simon to see, and he feels it. He feels desire, something he’d never felt as a PDS-sufferer and something he rarely felt before his death. He feels it growing inside him, white hot, the irresistible want, and he wants to run into the water and just touch Kieren, feel him beneath his fingertips, kiss him, be close to him.

As Simon undresses Kieren sees it, and his eyes widen.

“Simon…” Kieren trails off, just staring at him.

Simon takes a deep breath. For once in his life, he’s afraid of rejection. He’s afraid that Kieren isn’t there yet, that Kieren can’t quite feel what he can feel yet. “Do you…?” Simon can’t finish his sentence.

Kieren nods. Simon breathes in sharply.

And then, Kieren laughs. “Finally,” he chuckles. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Suddenly, Simon’s fear seems silly, and he feels bad. So he’s been behind Kieren this whole time. He must’ve been torturing Kieren, if Kieren felt this around him and couldn’t do anything about it. That makes Simon want him even more.

Simon wades in the water, up to his waist, and cups Kieren’s face in his hands. “Risen again,” Simon says wonderously, feeling Kieren’s desire. He kisses Kieren gently. “Incorruptible.”

And under the sun, in the river, with waves washing around them and the fresh air and birds chirping, Simon truly feels he’s been born again, with even more sensation than before. He feels more, and not only that, he sees more. He sees more beauty. He loves more.

* * *

 

They spend another few days in the tent (and out of it) exploring their new senses and just enjoying each other’s company, but it isn’t long before they start to go low on supplies and Simon starts to miss running water and Kieren wants to see his family, so they settle in the car together and begin the long drive back home.

The drive is quiet and they spend most of it half-asleep, staring out the windows and listening to the radio.

“Kieren?” Simon lifts the heavy curtain of silence that’s been festering over their heads.

Kieren looks at him expectantly.

“I love you,” Simon says finally, getting it off his chest. He finally tells Kieren what Simon and Jem already know.

Kieren just stares at him for another beat. “I love you, too,” he says finally, and then he leans his head on Simon’s shoulder and closes his eyes. The car speeds down the road, the radio plays, scenery rushes by, Simon loves Kieren, and Kieren loves him back.


End file.
